


Day Seven - Father Todd

by elwon



Series: JayDick Week 2017 [7]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Demons, Exorcists, Father Todd, M/M, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-08
Updated: 2017-10-08
Packaged: 2019-01-10 17:01:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12303576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elwon/pseuds/elwon
Summary: “Well, I daresay if you can manage some breakfast and a shower, then you can take confession today. I have to take Mass shortly.” Alfred peers at him over his reading glasses, he tends to change the subject whenever Jason raises the slight possibility that he’s not exceeding expectations.“Wait, isn’t today Wednesday?” Jason groans, while Alfred nods with obvious amusement. “Oh God, Mrs Tabernacle comes in on Wednesdays. Ugh. Can I take a spare bottle of communion wine in with me?”





	Day Seven - Father Todd

_NOW:_

Jason stumbles through the door to the Rectory kitchen, cursing as he spills his whiskey on the floor. He loosens his dog collar and shucks his leather jacket off, dropping it on the back of a chair. He takes one last swig from the near empty bottle of whiskey before he collapses into the one comfortable armchair in the room, sighing in relief. Jason drops his guns on the table next to him, and runs his hands through his hair, tugging on the white forelock out of habit, as he always does when he’s tired. He winces as the cut in his side pulls as he shifts and thinks about making the attempt to get the first aid kit from underneath the sink. He closes his eyes for a moment, feeling waves of exhaustion crash over him. Cleaning out that nest of vampires earlier had really taken it out of him.

He forces himself to pick his guns back up, taking out the empty clips and grabbing the bottle of gun oil from the drawer of the small side table next to him. He runs his fingers along the engraved ‘Jesus Christ is in Heaven now’ on Robin and ‘God is in his Heaven and all is well in the World’ on Nightwing before carefully rubbing the oil into both guns. His eyelids grow heavier and heavier as sleep creeps up on him.

But even in his sleep he feels the pulse of power as someone attempts to summon a demon.

 

_THEN (12 YEARS AGO):_

“This is a _terrible_ idea. We should do it immediately.” Jason says, feeling a strange warmth flood his belly at Dick’s beaming smile.

“I knew I could rely on you, Jase. We’re going to show those losers that we’re not scared of anything!” Dick continues, pouring on the flattery even though Jason’s already said yes to this terrible idea. “One night in the Old Mason Place is going to be easy compared to staying at Fred’s.”

“I’ve never stayed at Fred’s. Is it really that bad?” Jason frowns. The Old Mason Place is supposed to be haunted, how could Fred’s be worse than that?

“His grandpa walks around naked, yelling about the old days and making racist and sexist comments. A haunted house is way, way better.” Dick grins, grabbing at Jason’s wrist to pull him along after him.

“Ugh. Never staying at Fred’s then.” Jason mumbles, as Dick leads them along the street to the Old Mason Place. It’s the stereotypical creepy old house at the end of the street, abandoned for years and only used these days by teens looking for a thrill or the occasional desperate hobo. Even the local junkies seem to avoid it. From the outside it’s a typical American gothic detached house, with broken stained glass, wrought iron fencing, and steps up to a porch that look dangerously unstable. Jason’s pretty sure that a family of raccoons live under those steps, and he’s equally sure that they’ve gone from pests to outright evil from living there too long. He’d told Dick that once, shortly after he’d moved there and asked about the house and Dick had laughed and told Jason he was hilarious. Jason didn’t tell him that he meant it.

They make it through the wrought iron gate, despite the scream of metal on metal as it moves. They make it up the unstable steps with no sign of a single raccoon, which should reassure Jason, but really makes him wonder if they’re going to sneak in at night and eat his and Dick’s faces while they sleep. ...Well, he’s not going to sleep _now_. They make it through front door, which weirdly, is unlocked, and as they step inside, Jason swears the temperature drops dramatically. Dick doesn’t seem to notice, but Jason can’t hold back a shiver.

Dick bounds through the house, footsteps thumping as he checks out the ground floor. Jason eyes the stairs, pushing against the treads to see if they’ll give way. The third step up seems solid enough so Jason takes a seat and decides that he’s not moving for the rest of the night. If he needs to get out of here quickly, he’s only a couple of strides from the door and the relative safety of Gotham at night. Dick comes back, cheeky grin painted across his face and takes a seat next to Jason.

“Well, there’s pretty much nothing here, no furniture or anything. Want to check upstairs?” Dick knocks their shoulders together, having far more fun that Jason thinks is needed. 

“It’s probably as empty as down here, yanno?” Jason tries, and Dick pouts. Jason’s weak to that look, not that he’ll admit it. “Oh my god, _fine_ , if it’ll stop you making that face.” Dick bounces to his feet and takes the stairs two steps at a time, as if he’s light as air. Jason follows after him slower, not trusting the staircase at all. Once they’re up there, Jason’s proved right. All the rooms are empty, even the bathroom doesn’t have a bath. It does have a toilet, but as it’s in the middle of the room on its side and not attached to anything, Jason counts it as nothing. 

“Want to check the attic?” Dick says, not giving up hope that there’s some entertainment to be had.

“Hell no! That’s just asking for, I don’t know, a broken ankle or neck or something. Let’s just go downstairs and wait out the night, ok?” Jason points out. Dick makes a face but doesn’t argue, so they traipse back down the stairs and they sit down. They talk for a while, but eventually run out of things to say and Dick’s head begins to droop, dropping down closer to Jason’s shoulder with each passing moment. Jason stays as still as he can, trying to not disturb Dick at all, heart pounding hard.

Just as Jason’s eyelids are starting to feel heavy, the front door bursts open with a great gust of wind. Dick startles awake, and Jason stares up at the figure in the doorway. It’s shaped like a man, but a naked one. Jason wonders for a fleeting second if it’s Fred’s grandpa before he sees the clawed hands and huge horns on its head and hooves for feet. Dick inhales deeply and Jason thinks he’s going to scream, but then there’s an almighty crashing noise and the demon gets blasted past them into the room next to the staircase.

Another figure walks in through the door, this one in long robes and a dog collar, dark hair and a moustache, glasses glinting in the moonlight. With a jolt, Jason realises he recognises him. It’s Father Pennyworth from St Sebastian’s. Jason hasn’t been to a service there since his mother died and he likes to think he’s grown up a lot since then, but Father Pennyworth’s eyes widen in recognition, although he strides past them without a word, guns in both hands.

“Oh my God, Jason, does that priest have guns?” Dick shrieks in his ear. “Why does a priest have guns? What the hell was that thing? Why am I asking you?” Jason would also like to know the answers to those questions, and he has the sinking feeling he’s about to find out.

“I am the resurrection and the life, sayeth the Lord.” Father Pennyworth recites surely and solemnly, raising the guns and pointing both of the long barrels that are glowing with strange little symbols at the creature and firing them one after the other. The bullets bury themselves deep into the chest of the creature, glowing gold and causing huge glowing cracks to appear in it. The ground underneath it opens up and with a roar of rushing wind swirling around it, the creature gets swallowed up, leaving the floor untouched. With a sigh, Father Pennyworth turns to face them.

“I suppose you boys will be wanting an explanation. Is there any chance you could be persuaded to forget what you saw?” Father Pennyworth says, with resignation. Dick shakes his head while Jason snorts in response. “I had a feeling you wouldn’t. How about we go back to the rectory and I explain this over a nice hot mug of cocoa?”

Jason could really go for some cocoa about now.

 

_NOW:_

Jason wakes up to the kettle boiling and Alfred rattling around the kitchen getting ready for the first cup of tea of the morning. Jason sits up from his slumped position, pulling the blanket down into his lap. 

“Good morning, young man. I trust you had a successful night last night.” Alfred says, not even turning around as he gathers their cups and drops slices of bread in the toaster. Apart from the grey streaks in his hair that have now turned white, Alfred doesn’t look a day older than when Jason met him over a decade ago. Even this early in the morning he’s immaculately dressed in his cassock.

“Morning. Yeah, nest is cleared.” Jason rubs a hand over his face. “You give me this blanket?” Jason appreciates the gesture but he’s always a little disturbed to realise that someone got that close to him while he was sleeping.

“I did. It seemed to help with the nightmares.” Alfred sets a cup of tea in front of Jason. “No need to deny it, you were dreaming about him again weren’t you?” 

“What makes you say that?” Jason says, squinting against the early morning light streaming through the rectory widow. 

“You were calling his name, my boy. You always cry when you do that.” Alfred says, kindly. Jason still feels a trace of embarrassment though. “I took the liberty of wiping your face before you woke. There was some blood you had missed.” Jason knows perfectly well that he hadn’t wiped his face at all before he came back last night. He hadn’t needed to, there had been no blood spilt anywhere near him. If he was dreaming about Dick, then his face would have been tear stained. Alfred’s little white lie is fooling no one.

“I... yeah. Same old dream, even. You’d think I would be over it by now.” Jason shrugs and picks up his tea, taking a sip and letting the warmth radiate through him. Alfred makes a non-committal hum.

“Well, I daresay if you can manage some breakfast and a shower, then you can take confession today. I have to take Mass shortly.” Alfred peers at him over his reading glasses, he tends to change the subject whenever Jason raises the slight possibility that he’s not exceeding expectations.

“Wait, isn’t today Wednesday?” Jason groans, while Alfred nods with obvious amusement. “Oh God, Mrs Tabernacle comes in on Wednesdays. Ugh. Can I take a spare bottle of communion wine in with me?”

“Certainly not. You finished off that bottle of whiskey last night, I don’t think you need more alcohol.” Alfred says flatly.

“I distinctly remember you saying last Wednesday that that woman would drive a saint to drink! Alfred, I am no saint.” Jason gestures towards him with his tea cup.

“We might be special cases, my boy, but we are still priests. These things are sent to try us. And today you must be tried sober.” Alfred manages to keep the smile threatening his face away, but only barely.

“Ugh.” Jason lets his head thunk heavily onto the kitchen table and resigns himself to taking confession without anything to dull the pain. 

 

_THEN (9 YEARS AGO):_

Jason walks into Dick’s bedroom, closing the door quietly. The window is wide open, allowing the slight breeze to clean out the underlying smell of dirty laundry and old gym socks that Dick’s room has. For once the place is free of piles of clothes and stacks of old magazines. Jason wonders if Dick’s cleaned up especially for him. Dick’s laying on his front on his bed, singing along to the music playing and kicking his feet back and forth in the air, apparently unaware Jason’s there.

“This world is gonna burn, burn burn burn, as long as we’re going down... Baby you should stick around, baby you should stick around...” Dick’s got a nice singing voice, light and free and Jason decides to enjoy the view. “It’s all gone to shit, it’s out of our hands, Baby if you coulda known, you would hatch a plan, that’s my, that’s my man...” Dick twists onto his back, sitting up while still singing. He trails off when he sees Jason leaning against his closed door.

“Oh my god, when did you get here!” Dick exclaims, jumping off the bed in surprise, looking far too graceful for someone as flustered as he is.

“A while ago.” Jason says, pushing off the door and moving over to sit on the bed. “Was enjoying the show. I’m considering putting my hands together for you.”

“Well, I’ve only got one thing to say then.” Dick smirks, composure fully regained, kneeling on the bed and settling himself over Jason’s lap like he belongs there.

“Put your hands on _me_ instead.” Dick grabs Jason’s hands and places them firmly on his hips. Jason’s hands twitch and grip harder without him meaning to.

“So demanding! Maybe I should start calling you princess.” Jason says, feeling the grin spread across his face as Dick laughs happily. 

“Maybe you should. I don’t really mind as long as you start kissing me.” Dick leans his arms on Jason’s shoulders and moves in. Jason’s happy to oblige and closes the distance between them to press his lips to Dick’s. He slips his hands back further to give Dick a good squeeze through his sweatpants which makes Dick moan happily and squirm in his lap.

“As you wish, princess.” Jason jokes, flipping them over, pressing Dick down on his bed, crawling over him to cage him in and under him. Dick leans up to kiss him again, and Jason loses himself to the feel of Dick’s mouth on his. Dick wraps his leg around Jason’s pulling him down flush to his body. Jason lets his hands wander where they please, unable to get enough of touching Dick, addicted to the feel of his skin warm and alive beneath his hands. He slides one hand under the hem of Dick’s shirt, slowly pushing up his side. The other digs under Dick’s back, higher and higher until its past Dick’s shoulder and Jason’s fingers can curl around the back of Dick’s neck possessively. 

Dick breaks the kiss to tug at the back of Jason’s shirt, pulling until it comes up over his head and then down, forcing Jason to untangle his arms from around Dick to discard the shirt on Dick’s floor. Jason puts his hands back where they were, grinning as Dick moans happily and stares up at him with darkened eyes burning with want. Dick grabs at his head, sliding his fingers down into Jason’s hair, and pulling him in for another breath-taking kiss. Dick’s other hand comes to rest on Jason’s bicep, gripping at it hard as Dick groans into the kiss, sucking on Jason’s tongue. For Jason, kissing Dick is like fuel for fire, the more he kisses him, the more he needs to, pressing against him harder. Almost as if he’s trying to crawl inside Dick and stay there. Dick turns his head away, kissing along Jason’s jaw until her reaches Jason’s ear, giving the lobe a quick nip.

“God, you’re so hot.” Dick pants out, shuddering pleasantly as Jason presses butterfly kisses down his neck and up again.

“Thanks, you too.” Jason huffs, amused, sliding his hand back up under Dick’s shirt, fingertips tapping against Dick’s smooth skin in an offbeat rhythm.

“No, I mean your skin. Being under you makes me feel like I’m melting.”Dick moans. “Like I’m standing in front of a volcano. I love it.”

“If I’m a volcano then you’re a hurricane.” Jason grunts. Dick blew into his life and took it over so thoroughly that Jason often feels like he’s been lifted away from the ground through the sheer force of him. 

“What?” Dick breathes, hiking his leg higher up Jason’s thigh, tucking his ankle down for better leverage.

“Nothing.” Jason slurs into the sensitive skin of Dick’s neck. He lifts his head to look Dick straight in his beautiful bright blue eyes. “I’d do anything for you. Burn the whole world, if that’s what you wanted.” 

“I just want _you_ , Jase... want to just be like this.” Dick moves his hand down to trail his fingers up and down Jason’s spine, touching lightly, making Jason shiver. He slides his hand down into Dick’s sweats, under his briefs and squeezes his cheek. His finger ghosts over Dick’s hole, barely even touching. “Jason!” Dick gasps out, voice wrecked, low, wounded and desperate with need. Jason yanks his hand out, pushing up onto his elbow, fist gripping Dick’s pillow so hard it begins to hurt as he tries to get himself under control. Jason kisses Dick gently, sharing breath with him until something in his chest breaks and bursts into something so tender and warm that Jason can barely stand it.

“The earth breaks, it falls and set your beat, I find myself swallowed, drowning in your heat...” Dick chants quietly, pulling Jason’s forehead down to rest on his.

Their eyes meet, both feeling the magnetic pull to each other. It feels heavy, eternal, but Jason relishes it. Everything he could ever want is right in his arms right now, and not even god himself could force Jason to let go.

 

_NOW:_

Jason’s on his way to the confessional when he spots a familiar figure trying to be sneaky over by the locked bookshelves. Dark lank hair falling in his eyes, short, thin stature and a fancy private school uniform means it can only be one person. Tim Drake is trying and failing to pick the lock and ‘borrow’ one of the forbidden books of magic and demonology St Sebastian’s keeps safe. It’s not the first time Jason’s caught him trying, it’s not even the third or sixth time, and it probably won’t be the last. The altar boy doesn’t quite seem to understand that they’re locked away for a reason. The reason being overconfident and under experienced people like him getting into trouble by using those books alone.

“So, I see three things wrong here.” Jason booms out, making the kid jump and spin round on the spot. “First, that is not the way to pick a lock, and no, I won’t teach you.” The boy closes his open mouth and pouts at that. “Secondly, we know for a fact that Father Pennyworth doesn’t let anyone touch those books without a training course, a license from the Cardinal and his personal permission, all of which you need to be over eighteen for.” Drake wilts a little and Jason should feel bad for crushing the boy’s hopes, but honestly? He actually gets a small amount of glee at thwarting him. “Thirdly, shouldn’t you be in school? If you leave now, you might not even be tardy.” 

Drake runs off, not even waiting to apologise. Jason snorts, he didn’t suffer through four years of the Seminary and another three years of exorcist training to be the scary librarian. He guesses it’s just a bonus.

 

_THEN (8 YEARS AGO):_

Dick slams the warehouse door shut behind them while Jason frantically searches for anything that’ll help barricade them in. It’s empty for the most part. Clearly unused and what little there is there is covered in a thick layer of dust. Eventually he spots a table that might work as a barricade. It looks heavy enough, he hopes. He drags the table over and Dick helps him push it up against the door. They don’t try to catch their breath yet, Dick grabbing Jason’s hand and pulling him deeper into the warehouse, over to the office where Dick tries the door and finds it unlocked. They go inside, shutting the door and pushing a heavy filing cabinet in front of the door.

Jason leans against the far wall of the office and slowly slumps down to the floor, breathing hard, legs out in front of him. Dick joins him, still wide eyed and Jason could swear he can hear the rapid beat of Dick’s heart, syncopated with his own. Jason wraps his arm around Dick’s shoulders, pulling him into a tight hug, inhaling the scent of his shampoo and squeezing his eyes shut, hoping that whatever the hell it was that’s following them has lost their trail. 

Jason swears that if they get out of this alive he’ll never take another shortcut through a back alley again. They’d been walking home after hanging out with friends all evening and Dick had suggested they duck into the dark alley for a quick kiss, when everything had gone to hell. Something had lumbered toward them in the darkness, cloaked in deep shadows. At first Jason had thought it was just a drunk, or maybe some lowlife running them off, but then he’d seen its eyes. From a distance they’d glowed a vibrant red, but as it drew closer Jason had seen the flames in its eyes, malevolent flames that had sent a violent shudder through him. 

His fight or flight instinct had kicked in about the same time that Dick’s had, and they’d fled the alley, running as fast as they could. It had followed them, seemingly jumping out at them from the shadows every time Jason had begun to let himself think they might have lost it. How they’d ended up at the warehouse, Jason couldn’t have said, he wasn’t even sure what part of town they were in any more. 

By the time Jason’s breathing has calmed enough that he no longer feels that he might have a heart attack, Dick’s pulled out of his arms and started to creep over to the office window, intent on peeking out to see if the danger has passed. Jason opens his mouth to warn him to be careful, but no sound comes out. He tries to lift an arm to catch Dick’s attention, but it feels heavier than lead, barely twitching in his lap when he tries to move it. He watches with growing horror as Dick rises from his hands and knees to kneel up and peer into the warehouse.

“I can’t see anything!” Dick whispers, “I think we might be ok now...” Jason desperately wants to tell him to run, hide, it’s _not_ ok, but only silent breath comes out when he opens his mouth. Dick turns to look at him, and Jason feels like everything has gone into slow motion. 

The second that Dick takes his eyes away from the window, a large black cloud swarms forward. The more his head turns, the closer it gets. Jason can see the window begin to crack, spider webs forming in the glass. By the time Dick’s looking straight at Jason, the tentative smile on his face has dropped off at seeing the panic on Jason’s. The window explodes inwards, shards of glass raining down on Dick and flying at Jason. He can’t move, can’t do anything but watch as two large shards fly towards him. One pierces his stomach, embedding itself so deep he can feel it coming out of his back, and it’s not until the first drop of blood drips down and leaves the shard to land on the floor that the pain hits him.

The other catches him in the forehead. Dick screams and Jason looks back up at him. The office door blows open, filing cabinet moved as if it weighed nothing. The swirling mass of darkness seeps into the office, a tendril reaching out towards Dick. It wraps around his ankle, and _pulls_. Dick, still screaming, is dragged over to the doorway. His fingers scrabble along the bare concrete as he tries to pull himself back to Jason. 

“Jason! Help me!” Jason can just make out the words Dick’s yelling. His blood is rushing in his ears, mixing with the loud ringing and howling air that seems to be coming from the cloud. It’s a struggle to breathe; his eyes are as wide as they’ve ever been. He can’t look away from Dick. Black spots are creeping into his vision. Blood drips down his face. The backs of his jeans are growing wet with the rest of the blood he’s losing. “Jason! Oh god, help me! Please!” Dick’s still screaming. Jason tries to move his arms. He wants to crawl over to Dick. Grab his hands and pull with all his strength. They remain limp and useless in his lap. 

Dick’s legs are completely enveloped in the swirling black cloud now. Dick’s fighting so hard to get away, terror clear in his voice, eyes darting this way and that. His fingers are leaving bloody trails on the concrete as he tries to get away. He’s being dragged back inch by inch. Jason’s arm finally moves, and for a second he thinks he might be able to get to Dick. Instead, he topples over onto his side. Dick screams his name louder. Jason tries to say his name, but only manages to mouth it. He doesn’t know what’s worse. Dick screaming for his help or Dick screaming in fear for Jason. His finger twitches and Jason uses that to move his arm closer to Dick. He’s not quite reaching out. Even if he was, Dick’s too far away.

The darkness has swallowed Dick to the waist, and Jason can hear a thudding noise in the distance. Jason can barely see. All sound is muffled as if he were underwater. The taste of blood is in his mouth. The black cloud has Dick up to the neck now. Jason’s arm moves out further as if it’s any help at this point. The last thing Jason sees before his vision dims is Dick’s face completely covered by the darkness, his hands still scrabbling at the floor. He hears more muffled thuds. The cloud suddenly has lightning in it, snaking out and hitting the doorframe around it. The cloud dissipates and Dick is gone with it.

“Oh Lord... Bullock! We need an ambulance!”

“Aw crap. I’m on it, Padre.” 

“Now, you just hold on lad. We’re getting you out of here. So you must live.”

Jason can’t see the men, can barely hear them, but he knows Dick is gone. He doesn’t know what the point of holding on is now. Dick’s _gone_.

 

A week later, Jason’s staring at the hospital ceiling. He’s not expecting any visitors. His case worker at the group home has spoken to the doctors, but didn’t feel the need to speak to him. Jason’s fine with that. He has nothing to say, anyway. The nurse that told him that he’d screamed his throat raw after he’d arrived and that he should write down anything he could need on the pad she’d left for him, had also told him that the police had told Dick’s parents about the demon attack, and that Jason had nothing to worry about. With Dick gone, Jason really doesn’t have anything to worry about. 

Jason hasn’t seen Dick’s parents, doesn’t know what he’d say to them if he did. Sorry I lived when your son was brutally murdered? I loved him? He fought until the last breath, screaming for help that I couldn’t give? Somehow he thinks that none of that would help. It doesn’t help Jason. Staring at the ceiling doesn’t help with the guilt, but at least it doesn’t hurt.

He must have dropped into a doze, that or he’s being given the good drugs, because the next time he opens his eyes Father Pennyworth is sitting next to his bed.

“Welcome back, young man. How are you feeling?” the Father says, kind look on his face. Jason doesn’t try to say anything. What is there to say? “That good hmmm?” the Father continues. Jason sighs and manages to grab the pad and pen on the third try. Pennyworth politely waits for him to do so and to write a message, scrawled as it is.

LIKE CRAP 

“Well, yes, I’d imagine so. You’re quite lucky, you know. Most couldn’t survive a demon attack like that.” Father Pennyworth is giving him a sad smile and Jason’s almost glad he can’t lift his arms up high because if he could he’d want to punch the priest. Jason does not feel lucky.

DICK

“I’m afraid we got there too late. Your friend is... gone.” Pennyworth has a look of genuine regret on his face. It mollifies Jason a little. But not enough.

COULDN’T SAVE HIM

“You mustn’t blame yourself. You nearly died yourself. Bifrons demon attacks are impossible to fend off. There was nothing you could have done, my boy. They play with their victims and paralyse anyone else in the vicinity. Most victims of the paralysis perish a few days later. They really are quite vicious buggers. ” Pennyworth pulls off his glasses and cleans them while Jason scrawls another message on the pad.

HOW?

Father Pennyworth gives him a quizzical look and gestures for him to continue. Jason wanted to know how he survived, but something about that description ignites a rage in him. This morning he’d wanted nothing more than to join Dick in the afterlife. Now? Now he’s pissed and he wants revenge.

YOU GOT RID OF IT. LIKE THAT ONE WE SAW BEFORE. HOW DO I DO THAT?

“How do you become an exorcist?” Father Pennyworth pauses as Jason nods. “Well, it’s a long process. The way I did it was four years of training to be a priest, and then the actual exorcism course, which only takes priests by the way, was another three years. Why?”

I NEED TO BE LIKE YOU  
I NEED TO BE AN EXORCIST  
PLEASE  
HELP ME

Father Pennyworth says nothing. After a few long tense moments, he lays his hand over Jason’s. 

“Rest and heal, now. When the time is right, I’ll give you all the help you need.” The Father promises. Jason closes his eyes. He feels a gentle hand wipe away the tears that slip out from under his closed lids.

 

_NOW:_

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been one week since my last confession.” Mrs Tabernacle begins. Jason tries hard not to roll his eyes, covering his mouth to cough quietly at the overwhelming smell of French perfume that always accompanies Mrs Tabernacle.

“You may begin, my child.” Jason tries to keep his voice even, but her perfume always tickles his damaged throat. He picks up the bottle of water he brought in with him and takes a quick swig. It helps a little with the need to cough, which is the best he can do in these close confined quarters.

“I missed Mass three times, I lied five times to my son, I had impure thoughts about my friend’s husband and I had unkind thoughts about another friend.” Mrs Tabernacle lists out her sins, and Jason tries very hard not to zone out as she does. 

“Alright, well, say three Hail Marys and try to remember to be kind to yourself, my child.” Jason says, grateful that for once Mrs Tabernacle is being quick.

“O my God, I am very sorry for all my sins, because they offend you who are so good, and with your help I will not sin again. Amen” Mrs Tabernacle recites dutifully.

“God has forgiven your sins, go in peace.” Jason says, relieved.

“Thanks be to God.” Mrs Tabernacle stands on her creaking knees and exits the confessional. Jason wishes he could do the same, pulling out a handkerchief and sneezing into it. He really hates that perfume. 

 

_THEN (2 YEARS AGO):_

The first time Jason straps on his exorcist guns, he feels stupid. The ends of the holsters don’t quite reach his knees when strapped around his hips, and they feel bulky and heavy. Alfred suggests he walks around with them on for a day or two to get accustomed to them, and he feels a fool while wearing them. But the overly long guns are standard for Exorcists and so Jason eventually gets used to wearing and drawing them until he can smoothly pull Robin and Nightwing from their holsters and target his enemies without tripping up and shooting his own foot. 

Tonight however, he straps on his guns, pulls on his leather jacket and makes sure his exorcist ID is in his pocket before heading out to find an incubus attacking women in the club district. It feels odd, to be prowling through the crowded and heated clubs with his dog collar on. He receives so many appreciative stares before they spot the priest’s collar around his neck that he feels embarrassed. Jason’s on his third club of the evening, the loud driving music is beginning to give him a headache and the sheer amount of drinks he’s had to turn down that evening is depressing. He’s punched one guy for grabbing his ass already that evening, and he decides that from now on much looser jeans will be part of his uniform.

Jason pushes away from the bar, thinking he’ll try his luck in the back alley behind the club. If that’s a bust, then it’s time to move on to the next club. Stepping out into the cool night air is just what Jason needs. He closes his eyes for a moment, relishing the slight breeze, if not the stench of the alley. Opening his eyes, Jason finds what he’s looking for. To his right a man is pressing a young woman into the wall, draining the life out of her. Her skin is ashen from the loss of energy. Without a second thought Jason takes Robin out of its holster and levels it at the incubus. As he aims it, the angelic symbols engraved into Robin begin to glow, lighting up along the barrel, increasing the power of the shot as he squeezes the trigger. The bullet catches the incubus square in the back, the portal to hell opening up beneath its feet and sucking him down into it, leaving the woman, who’s beginning to recover, safely against the wall. Once the portal closes, she flees without a word, leaving Jason alone in the alley.

“You’re welcome!” Jason calls out to her retreating form. He sighs, staring up at the polluted night sky, and turns to the mouth of the alley way, about to leave himself.

“That really was very impressive, you know...” an amused voice tells him. Jason grabs the body the voice belongs to and whirls them round so that he’s pinning them to the wall. He stares in shock at the familiar face.

“What... Who... How dare you wear his face!” Jason snarls at the man. He’s shaking with rage and bare seconds from sending the bastard wearing Dick’s face to hell, shoving the end of the barrel under his chin, Robin glowing again. 

“Jason! Wait, please. It’s me.” The bastard pleads, and Jason presses the gun in a little harder. “It’s really me, I’m Dick!”

“If you think I’m going to fall for that, demon, then you’re even more stupid than I thought possible.” Jason growls, voice straining painfully, the way it hasn’t done in years.

“It’s not a trick.” The demon begs. “You have to believe me!” Jason doesn’t have to. Demons lie, after all.

“The only thing I have to do is send you back to hell.” Jason scoffs, moving his finger onto the trigger.

“If you’re a volcano, then I’m a hurricane...” the demon gasps, and Jason freezes. 

“What the fuck did you just say?” Jason never thought he’d hear that phrase ever again.

“It’s... what you said the first time we made love. Jason, it’s me. It’s really me.” Dick says. Jason stares at him; he knows that Dick would never have told anyone that. It was too private, too personal, just for them.

“D-Dick?” Jason can’t believe it. How can Dick be a demon? Even if Robin weren’t lighting up in his presence, the glowing eyes would be a dead giveaway. He lets Robin slip down from under Dick’s chin.

“Hey, Jase. Good to see you. I missed you so much.” Dick says, smiling gently and Jason feels something break in his chest.

“But you died. How are you a demon?” He’s not really sure he wants to know. It can’t be anything good.

“Oh, I got dragged to hell and tortured until I broke, and then became a demon. You know, the usual.” Dick grins, like that’s the best joke he’s ever told. Jason stares at him in horror. “I’m more interested in you. I thought you’d died. No one survives Bifrons demons. But here you are, wonderfully human and alive. And you moved during the attack! Do you have any idea how much strength of will that takes? A lot, I can tell you.” Dick smiles at him. Jason blinks, trying to take all that in.

“You look so surprised. Why?” Dick lifts a hand from the wall to rest on Jason’s shoulder. “By the way, I _love_ the jacket. It suits you. That collar though? That really needs to go. Doesn’t fit you at all.”

“You...” Jason opens and closes his mouth, not sure which of the hundreds of things he wants to say first. Dick’s hand slides up from his shoulder to his head and gently pushes it down until Jason’s resting against Dick’s shoulder. Jason lets him, too stunned to even think of fighting him off. Dick’s there, alive, sort of, and Dick’s _there_. “I missed you.”

“I know, my man, I know. I love you too.” Dick whispers into his ear. “It was the only thing that kept me going for such a long time in hell. How you screamed my name over and over until you had no voice left while I was dying. Only someone who loves you could scream like that. Even now, your voice is still hoarse from the paralysis.” Jason tries to fight back a sob, body sagging down onto Dick, while he strokes Jason’s hair gently. 

“I was screaming?” Jason doesn’t remember that. He remembers trying with no sound coming out.

“You were so loud I thought I was going to go deaf!” Dick chuckles. Jason doesn’t find it funny. He lifts his head to stare at Dick. Apart from the glowing eyes, Dick looks the same, although older than when he died. Dick presses his forehead to Jason’s. “There you are. I needed this. Needed _you_ , Jase.”

“God, Dick. I...” Jason trails off, staring at the glowing eyes so close to his. It’s Dick, but he’s a demon. He’s a demon and he still feels that draw to him, wants nothing more than to hold him, just _be_ with him. Dick shifts slightly, pressing their lips together and Jason gasps. Dick’s warm and alive and he tastes different. He used to taste of spit and skin and sometimes Zesti cola. Now he tastes of ozone and smoke, and Jason’s head is spinning.

“Come with me, Jase. We could be together. You could be like me. You could burn the world for me, just like you promised...” Dick purrs, eyes so bright it hurts to be that close and looking at them. Jason pushes away from him, stepping out of the reach of Dick’s arms, and it’s the hardest thing he’s ever done.

“I can’t. Dick, I can’t. I’m a priest.” Jason feels like screaming. “I took vows. I meant them. I still do.”

“Do you?” Dick pouts, but he lets Jason pull away from him. “Well, that’s ok. I’ve all the time in the world to change your mind.” Dick pushes away from the wall, sauntering past Jason to leave the alley, humming an old familiar song. Jason watches him go, and after he’s long gone, the song haunts him all the way home and into his dreams.

“ _This world is gonna burn, burn burn burn, as long as we’re going down... Baby you should stick around, baby you should stick around..._ ”

 

_NOW:_

Night has fallen and after a long day of hearing confession, Jason’s pulling together the ingredients for tonight’s meal. He’s washing up a bowl in the sink when he glances out of the Rectory Kitchen window and sees a shadow that shouldn’t be there. He weighs up the pros and cons of heading outside in the rain, knowing already that he’s going to head out there.

He opens the kitchen door and dashes through the rain to the Lychgate, ducking under the pitched roof to take shelter from the rain. The shadow draws close, joining him under the roofed gate, and this close Jason can make out the strip of bright blue across his chest and arms and the glowing blue of his eyes even in the dark and rain.

“Oh, I’m so glad you came, Jason.” The demon that Dick was twisted into purrs. If it weren’t for the unnatural bright electric glow of his eyes and the large bat-like wings on his back, Dick could pass for a normal, if ridiculously attractive, human male in his mid-twenties. Jason’s glad he didn’t change more.

“You always are, Dickie. What brings you here tonight?” Jason says, not even trying to hide how tired he is.

“Oh, the usual. I got to thinking about the old days, how much fun we had.” Dick leans in, careful not to broach the barrier that the gate provides. “I missed you. I thought you might like to... reminisce?”

“Uh huh. If this is another or your attempts to corrupt me, I’m gonna remind you why they never work.” Jason shifts, resting one hand on the grip of his still holstered gun.

“Well, as much fun as your lovely big guns are, wouldn’t it be so much better if you were like me?” Dick sighs and smiles and Jason has to fight off a smirk at Dick’s innuendo.

“You know it wouldn’t. Just think what it’d be like.” Jason leans against the gatepost. “We’d destroy everything, ruin everywhere we went. I’d burn the world for you, baby, and laugh while I did it.”

“It would be _glorious_! You’d end the world for me...” Dick purrs happily, eyes glowing brighter at the thought. 

“It would terrible and you’d hate it.” Jason says. “Dick, you actually like the world as it is. You’d be bored and sad if it ended.” Dick frowns, but doesn’t even try to deny it.

“Fine. I hate it when you’re right.” Dick pouts. “I actually came to tell you about a nest of Stolas demons on Millar Street.”

“Well now, that’s an ecumenical matter. West end or east end?” Jason half hopes it’s west end, he could do with a night in tonight.

“West end, under the bar. O’Malley’s, I think it was.” Dick grins as if he’s sharing a great secret with Jason.

“Ha! That’s out of parish boundaries and therefore someone else’s problem. Thank fuck. But I’ll pass the message on.”Jason smirks, let the poor bastards of St Mary of-the-Sea deal with it this time.

“Well, there’s one other thing... you felt it didn’t you? Really early this morning. Someone tried to summon a demon.” Dick’s eyes glow softly, and Jason has to clench his fist tightly to avoid being entranced by them.

“Maybe. You know anything about that?” Jason realises that Dick didn’t just come over to reminisce. He was worried about Jason. Dick came to check up on him. Jason wants to hug him and slap him and scream at him and kiss him softly. Dick was _worried_.

“Just that it was someone with little power but a lot of focus.” Dick says, the idleness in his voice not matched by the tenseness in his body language.

“Damn. I was hoping that wasn’t the case.” Jason grumbles, pushing off from the gatepost to lean on the gate itself, and Dick gives him a quizzical look. “Little power but a lot of focus means that they chipped away at the seal holding you guys in. It’s easier to repair a seal that’s been blown apart by too much power, you just slap another over it, and there’s no weakness.” Jason draws an illustration in the air with both hands. “But one that’s got a tiny little chip in it? You gotta search for that sucker and then patch it over on just the chip. Slapping another seal over it just means there’s a weakness ready to be exploited. Good for you guys, very bad for the rest of us.”

“Oh Lucifer, you’re hot when you get your knowledge on. Tell me more!” Dick leans in until their lips are brushing. Jason knows he should pull away, stand up and walk back into the rectory, but the magnetic pull he’s always felt towards Dick is still there.

Dick pushes forward and Jason lets him. Pushes into it, in fact, tasting that tang of ozone and smoke that all demons have. Dick moans into the kiss, his lips parting and Jason can’t resist the temptation to dip his tongue into the space Dick’s made for him. Jason lets his eyes slip open and he sees the bright electric blue of Dick’s eyes staring back at him. They break the kiss, and for a few sweet moments they exist in each other’s breath, the world narrowed down to just them.

A pulse of power runs through them suddenly, jolting them apart and leaving a nasty chill down Jason’s back. The Summoner was trying again.

“You have to go, don’t you?” Dick says sadly. “Go. Go catch him before he brings hellfire and brimstone down on us all.” Dick turns away, vanishing into the night as if he was never there. Jason pulls himself up, heading back into the rectory to get his weapons.

He has a Summoner to stop.

**Author's Note:**

> Are Jason's guns a mix of Alucard from Hellsing's and Peacemaker from Wynonna Earp? Yes, yes they are!
> 
> Dark Doo Wop by MS MR - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=77ZwHQI3J40


End file.
